The stars blinked above the Arkanveil estate like scattered embers from a dying fire. Lucien sat on the roof of the east wing, legs drawn to his chest, face lit only by the pulsing light of his system panel.
Two Traits. One truth.
> [Trait: Adaptation (SSS)]
Evolve. Overcome. Transcend.
To the world, it was his "one and only." A Trait categorized as a high-tier support ability, outclassed by flashier, more aggressive ones like Flame Tyrant or Sword God. Even among the Great Houses, Adaptation had a history of disappointment.
Too slow. Too passive. Too reactive.
But the world didn't know what Lucien knew.
It wasn't just the Trait that mattered.
It was the context.
The user.
And above all—the system bound to his soul.
He swiped the panel again, calling forth the heartbeat of his true gift.
> [Proficiency Panel]
Magic: Lv 3 [1632/2000]
Mana Control: Lv 4 [851/1500]
Hand-to-Hand Combat: Lv 6 [421/6000]
Tactical Analysis: Lv 5 [3001/4000]
Swordsmanship: Lv 7 [1446/8000]
Mana Sense: Lv 5 [2002/2500]
(Adaptation Sync: 13%)
Every moment he trained, every technique he pushed to its limit—Adaptation responded.
He could feel it, even now. The subtle shift in his bones. The faster healing of microtears. The increased mana efficiency. Nothing dramatic. Nothing instant.
But compounding.
Like a storm brewing behind calm skies.
In the old timeline, the Arkanveil heir had suffered under the weight of expectations. Adaptation hadn't been enough. It had started strong, then plateaued. Everyone said it was inferior. His family pushed him harder. The world mocked louder. And eventually, he broke.
That was before someone had figured out how to pair Adaptation with a system that never stopped refining.
That was before someone had Devour.
---
Lucien flicked a tiny dagger from his sleeve and pricked his fingertip.
He watched as the blood welled up—then, almost imperceptibly, slowed.
He did the same test every night now.
> Faster clotting. Nerve recovery improved by 0.3%.
Pain resistance up by 0.1%. Mana conversion rate up by 0.4%.
Tiny gains. Worthless on their own.
But day after day? Month after month?
Foundational evolution.
Aleron called it discipline. His mother called it gifted intuition. His father said it was foresight.
But none of them could see the engine turning beneath his skin.
Adaptation wasn't flashy because it was efficient. It wasn't dramatic because it was inevitable.
And when Devour entered the equation—feeding it traits, skills, potential—it would reach heights no one had imagined.
It would become perfect evolution.
---
He still remembered the moment his Adaptation awakened.
Unlike Devour, there had been no blue flames. No divine light. Just… stillness. Like slipping into water.
The world dulled. His senses refined. His thoughts sharpened. Not because Adaptation changed him in that instant—but because it began the process.
And Lucien welcomed it with open arms.
Because he understood it.
He understood that Adaptation was not for the impatient.
It was for the inevitable.
---
His eyes drifted to the edge of the estate, where the night guards patrolled in quiet rotations. Somewhere below, Elric was training with the dummies he insisted weren't for children. The boy worked harder than anyone he knew. Lucien had been secretly feeding his training paths into the panel, watching as Elric's potential bloomed like fire under glass.
Soon, Lucien would give Elric his first Shadow Soldier—the first of many.
But not yet.
His gaze shifted to the stars again.
The world thought the Arkanveil heir was a boy too clever and too delicate. A scholar-warrior without the brutality of a king.
Let them.
He'd play the role. Let the world underestimate him. Let them whisper.
And while they watched his public Trait stumble and grow, they wouldn't see the roots digging deeper.
They wouldn't see Adaptation slowly binding to his every breath. They wouldn't feel the undercurrent of Devour, sharpening his foundation with the essence of future enemies.
They wouldn't see him rising until it was too late.
---
The system pinged again. Another breakthrough.
> [Skill: Tactical Analysis has reached Lv 6]
[Adaptation Sync increased to 15%]
[New Passive: Neural Forecasting – Slightly enhanced combat intuition when outnumbered]
Lucien grinned.
And there it is.
Even now, at such a low sync percentage, Adaptation was granting passives. The "sync" represented the percentage of his body fully harmonized with the Trait. At 100%, he'd essentially become Adaptation incarnate—his biology, mind, and mana structure all optimized and self-evolving.
And with Devour upgrading it? There might not be a ceiling.
He stood up, brushing dust from his cloak.
The wind whispered across the rooftop, tugging at his clothes. Somewhere in the capital, a faction war brewed beneath layers of false peace. In the coming years, the world would shift—empires would rise, heroes would awaken, villains would fall.
But he wouldn't be the villain.
Not this time.
He stepped back into his room, sealing the window shut behind him.
His eyes lingered one last time on his glowing panel. On the twin lights of his destiny.
Adaptation.
Devour.
Two lights. Two roads. One truth.
"You made me the villain in your story," he whispered, settling into his bed.
"Now watch as I rewrite the script."